


Take the Stars From my Eyes

by NormieScum



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fem Eren - Freeform, Femme Eren, Freeform angst, I Don't Even Know, I really just wanted to write angst, I should win an award for reaching tbh, Shingeki - Freeform, This is horribly ooc probably, Unrequited Love, Vent Writing, cis swap, cis swap Eren, snk, this is a word dump honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NormieScum/pseuds/NormieScum
Summary: A messy timeline of scattered moments in a relationship where Jean is in unrequited love with Eren (Fem). Based on 500 Days of Summer, I can't get over how much the two remind me of Erejean in a troubling way because I love those two and want them to be happy. (Vent writing)





	

**Author's Note:**

> ❝Why can’t we laugh now like we did then?  
> How come I see you and ache instead?❞

It’s always on one of those cliché stormy days that life changing events happen. The type of weather that leaves a person vulnerable and whimsical. So, when the quirky brunette entered the coffee shop with soaked hair and glowing green eyes, what else was Jean supposed to do other than fall in love with her.

He’d always been that way, a hopeless romantic. He could find something he loved even about the people he hated. As a writer, it was in his job description to exaggerate _**everything**_. So maybe he wasn’t in love with her.

Maybe it was the way her heels clicked as they hit the wood flooring or the way she ever so delicately removed the purse strap from her shoulder to pay for her low-fat no foam latte with two packets of Splenda. He should’ve started to hate her then, when he realized how fake she must be.

After seconds, he found himself overly critical of this girl. Boundless observations about her flaws flashed through his mind as he blindly typed away at the current graphic novel he was working on.

A love story, undoubtedly.

When she focused on her phone, he noticed her eyes crossed slightly.

The way she popped her lips out in a subtle pout was annoying.

And her heels clicking against the floor, he began to hate it.

…So why couldn’t he pull his eyes away from her? And she noticed him staring too. At 6ft, he was probably hard to miss and the freshly bleached undercut probably didn’t help. His hair had a natural curl to it and the overgrown locks left him with a pretentious appearance. Which wasn’t exactly false. She could tell that much because of the MacBook and latest iPhone strewed out on the table before him. The way his clothes were perfectly tailored was just a follow-up example.

When he noticed her again, he realized her hair was a mess and her dress was tattered and worn. The heels, seemed just as shabby and he had to wonder how she could afford to be so picky about the coffee she was purchasing.

“What are you staring at, big boy?” She taunted, cocking her hip to the side so that she could rest one of her dainty hands on it arrogantly. One of her thick, unkempt eyebrows jutted upward and Jean scoffed in annoyance.

Yet, he was mesmerized.

She waited for her coffee before approaching him and sitting in the spot next to him. He was shocked, but neither in a negative or positive way.

“What are you doin’?” She questioned, a humming noise leaving past her lips as she leaned over his shoulder to admire the screen of his MacBook. Her damp hair hit his shoulder and this small action caused his entire body to tense up. He clenched his fists and dug the nails into the palms of his hands to wake himself up from this horribly troublesome encounter. But it seemed he was already awake.

“Are you just gonna ignore me then?” She questions, taking a sip of her coffee that’s obviously too hot. She winces in pain and he can’t help but chuckle which seems to piss her off. “Well, you’re kinda a dickhead.” Her accent, its unique and unlike anything he’s heard.

“Sorry. You’re just very…peculiar.” He says, trying to keep the fact that he was studying her as discreet as possible. She giggles and it’s not long after that he realizes that he’s in love with her. “I mean…it’s 4 pm and the middle of summer, why are you drinking hot coffee?”

She smiles and it’s now that he notices the speck of red lipstick on her front tooth which would normally make him cringe but God,

Red is her color.

“It’s raining dummy! Did you forget?” When he looks outside, he notices the storm and shivers. He hadn’t realized how cold it was in here.

They talk for hours and he discovers that she was in the military for a brief time before being discharged for medical reasons. She also worked at McDonald’s just to get free food.

He also learns that she has tattoos she’d show him but he refuses to let her strip in the middle of the coffee shop.

And she’s informed him that she can rehearse almost any Maroon 5 song from memory. He’s barely told her anything about himself and he doesn’t really care to, he just wants to hear more about her even if its deranged.

Some time passes and she gives him her number.

☆

The next time they meet, it’s raining again but this time they’re in the park. Sitting on a bench under the large oak tree. So they’re both soaked.

“You never really told me anything about yourself, Jean.”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a chance Eren.” He teases, his eyebrows furrowing as she leans closer and rests her palm on the middle of his chest. His breathing is shallow for a moment until she moves away. Is she flirting?

“I have an idea.” She mutters, taking a cigarette from the metal cigarette box that was resting on top of her bag. She holds one out to him. “You probably don’t smoke.”

“Of course not, I’m not suicidal. Are you trying to kill yourself?” He criticizes and she laughs.

“Don’t be a prude, Jean. I’m just having some fun.”

He digresses, “What was your idea?”

“I’ll guess something about you and you tell me whether it’s true or not.”

“…Okay.” Odd, but he’s intrigued.

She pauses as if she’s thinking but he knows that the comments she spurts out are completely arbitrary.

“You get your eyebrows done professionally?” He chokes on air and looks down at her.

“That’s bullshit.” The spot between his eyebrows is still sore from the wax job he’d gotten done earlier that day.

“it’s true! Isn’t it?!” She coos arrogantly, flicking the tip of his nose.

“No! Next one.”

“Hm. You write poetry.”

“No.”

“Damn, you really seem like the type.”

“…why?”

“Dunno,” She shrugs, taking a sip of her iced coffee which is practically all melted ice now. “You just seem sensitive. Melodramatic.”

For once, she makes him laugh. “Yeah okay, do you even know what that word means?”

“Honestly, no.” They laugh together and she leans in a little closer.

“Okay last one.”

“Ah. Well this one’s pretty obvious but-” She pauses, and Jean can tell that a faint blush is covering her cheeks and bridging over her nose. If her ears weren’t hidden by her hair, he’d see that her ears are burning crimson red. “You were checking out my ass in the coffee shop.” His throat goes dry and fuck, she’s so right.

“I guess.” He mutters and looks away to stare at a bus as it picks up people that’d been waiting at the stop. For a second time he’s fallen in love with her.

☆

It’s a hot day and they’re at the coffee shop they’d met in. They’ve met here every other day to discuss each other over overpriced coffee and sexual tension. Her knee occasionally bumps into his hand “on accident” multiple times before he takes the hand and rests his open palm against her bare leg. Her skirt rides up and he can see a tattoo on her thigh but he doesn’t question it. He’s too caught up in how soft her skin **_is._** As if it’s some sin for him to be doing this, he scoots closer to her in hopes that no one will see what they’re doing. ‘Get a room’ he tells himself. ‘I wish’, he answers himself.

She cups her hand over his and smiles, “Relax, tough guy.” His inclining hazel eyes soften for a moment and he relaxes into the way they fit together.

Being in love is such a submissive act, he barely speaks to her yet he says so much. The way his body reacts to her’s is almost pathetic. Most of the time he’s too busy admiring her to even answer her and it almost seems like an unhealthy infatuation.

“So you wanna go get dinner or something. Sometime, y’know?” He shocks himself, blurting out the question before even thinking it through.

“I uh…I’d like that, Jean.” She smiles, but it’s contrived to be exactly what he wants to hear. There’s uncertainty in her voice and he should’ve realized it but he couldn’t hear over his own thoughts.

☆

**_A_** few weeks pass before they go on the date. It’s at a fancy restaurant and Jean finds himself in an uncomfortable white suit. Eren, she’s in a flowing black dress that accents her breasts in just a way that he focuses on them for at least 30 seconds. She notices, of course.

“You’re such a pig, y’know that.” Her voice is snide but she wears a grin.

“I hate you.” He mutters, swallowing down a first glass of wine to loosen himself up. He talks more that night than he has in their entire “friendship”.

“You ever think about fate?” He questions her, sipping at his second glass of wine.

“Fate?” She laughs, “You must be joking.”

“No, why would I be? You never think about true love or like…that special someone that’s out there waiting for you?”

“Those things don’t exist Jean.” He’s shocked and there’s a sinking feeling in his gut. “You can’t tell me you believe in those things?”

“I always have,” Especially after meeting her, he believes in destiny. But he’d always been that way, overly picky until he found “the one” and he genuinely thinks it’s her, even if he doesn’t want it to be.

She takes a long sip from her glass, before patting her lips with the napkin. Her legs cross anxiously under the table and she reaches over to brush a couple fingers across his knuckles.

“I’m not looking for anything serious. I just thought you should know that.” She really doesn’t plan on breaking his heart but it’s inevitable.

“I don’t care.” His words are rushed and he doesn’t entirely think through what he’s saying. Any amount of time with her though, would be better than nothing so he takes the risk, uncalculated.

☆

He’s sitting on the edge of a fountain in the park, a pair of oversized headphones cover his ears and he’s blasting The Smiths. She approaches him like she’s meeting him for the first time, the familiar tune hitting her ears and inspiring her. He’s shocked when she grips his shoulders and sits beside him.

“Hi.” He mutters nervously, not removing the headphones at first.

“I love The Smiths!” She yells, yanking the headphones away from his face.

“What?” He’s screaming back at her until the music ceases.

“I said I love the Smiths.”

Jean’s staring at her, her toothy grin makes his heart skip beats and his hands shake as he tries to take control of the situation.

“Yeah?” Is all he says, she leans in to whisper in his ear and instead she just giggles and leans against his neck. Her hot breath causes his entire body to go stiff.

“You have good taste in music,” She mutters lazily, lacing her arms around one of his. He's almost certain she's flirting with him now, the way she touches him with such precision that she's barely even doing it. “Maybe you should suggest some more for me.”

“I can do that.” He answers, cooly. Although, inside he's a fucking disaster.

☆

He’s an absolute **_mess_**. After a drunk karaoke session at their favorite bar, he finds himself back at her place. He looks around and notices the apartment is a mess and there are endless takeout containers overflowing from the garbage can. He can tell she hasn’t done laundry in at least a week and empty beer bottles were strewn around the apartment suggest that she’s either a drunk or very, very sad. Maybe both.

“You hit your head when you fell, Jean! Do you remember that?”

“I fell?” He sits up straight and grunts as she props him up on her couch with a throw pillow.

“I’ve never seen you so carefree! It was…inspiring.” She teases, laughing. Her dimples appear and he melts once again, she looks concerned for a moment as her eyes narrow at him.

“Something wrong?” He questions and she stops moving. It’s that picture perfect moment where you can feel the overused final kiss coming as you watch helplessly from a stained chair in the local theater. Their faces are drifting closer to each other and their eyes are focused only on each other. He cups her cheek and she falls ever so gently into his touch. They’re two complete opposites, yet they fit so perfectly together. He sees them lasting a dozen lifetimes at least.

Finally, as he feels her lips upon his, Jean lets out a needy whimper before pulling her into his lap. His hand rests on her hip as he clumsily searches for anything that he can rip off of her body. He’s waited so long to be this close to her and he just wants to get past the point of not return. She isn’t stopping him either. As if she’s been waiting for it, Eren throws her dress off to expose her body to him. She’s curvy and has freckles around her belly button which he finds endearing. The black lace bra is see through and he wonders if she’d been planning or waiting for this to happen.

“Wow…” He mutters, drunken haze still apparent in his voice.

“Hm?” She questions, biting his lower lip and continuing to grin her hips against his lap.

“You’re gorgeous. Fuck, Eren.”

“Who would’ve thought?”

“Not me.” They both laugh and he stares at her curiously. He thinks, this is where he’d end the book, after this very kiss. This is where the credits roll. So what happens afterward?

☆

They awake tangled around each other, both of their bodies covered in hickeys and red spots. They’d gotten a little rougher than Jean usually does and for a brief moment, he mistakes this for passionate love. Yet, Eren quickly reassures him that it’s not love.

“That was…wow.”

“Mhm. Look, I gotta go. Work.” She wraps a blanket around her body and moves towards the bathroom, picking up articles of clothing along the way. “You should go.”

“Uh- wait! Wanna grab breakfast or something?”

“Tempting. But no thanks.”

His heart sinks and he bides his time on getting out of bed. He hears her shower start and although he’s tempted to stay, he leaves.

Something tells him this is as close as he’ll ever get but he can’t stop. He’s so wrapped up in whatever they are.

Even if he knows it’s over.

☆

It’s weeks before he hears from her again.

In her defense, he didn’t try to contact her either.

When he picks up the phone and says hello, he can hear the apprehension in her voice when she speaks.

“Hey…haven’t heard from you in a while, stranger.” That giggle, brings him crawling right back. In mere moments, he's metaphorically on his hands and knees begging her for more. Just one more kiss, or even less. He craves her so bad and he hates how desperate she makes him feel.

“Hey, I know. Sorry. Just been busy I guess.” He shrugs.

“Your phone only rang once before you picked up, I don’t think that’s the case.”

She’s caught him in a lie.

“But anyway, I was just thinking about watching cheesy romcoms and I remembered that you’re kinda a pussy. Wanna make it a date?” She babbles and it brings an instant smile to his face.

“I’m not a pussy, but I’ll be there in ten.”

“No need, I’m at your apartment building.” Typical Eren move. She’s always so spontaneous.

When he opens his front door, she still has her cell propped up against her ear. She’s wearing a pair of his pajamas and he tells himself again, this is a relationship. They have to be dating.

“Hey you,” He whispers, dropping his phone back into his pocket. Her hair is a mess and she appears to have been crying. “Did you start watching them without me?”

“No. I was just thinking about how sad it is.”

“What’s sad?”

“That stuff doesn’t work out. Most of the time. Most marriages end in divorce, y’know. You can’t really depend on the what-ifs.”

“The chances are what make it worth it.” He reassures her.

“Maybe you’re right.” She settles into the couch cushion and he’s right there beside her. Surely enough, she starts to tear up again. Jean is immediately working to pull her into his lap and hold her. Gently pressing a kiss to her forehead. Against his expectations, she doesn’t try to move away. It’s small actions like these that he considers minuscule victories. Maybe they mean so little to her but it’s so much to him. The false hope he gets from the tender moments causes him to greatly outweigh the odds in his favor.

☆

A handful of days pass after this “date”, when he doesn’t hear from her he decides to man up and call her first. When he does, she doesn’t answer. He frowns and turns back to his MacBook. He’s sitting in the same coffee shop they’d met in. In the exact same spot. With the exact same pretentious coffee she’d ordered. In a way, he’s disgusted with himself. When you fall for someone, you slowly become more and more like them. Why, though? He questions his actions, knowing he hasn’t acted like himself in months since he met her.

Most days are like this anymore, he numbly gets through them. Lately, he hasn’t even been able to write. For a while, he was meeting every single deadline at least a few days early but now he’s lost his muse. On days they’re together, he’s so inspired but days like this he can’t force out a single sentence.

☆

“Are you sure you’re not just overthinking it, Jean?”

“Yeah Marco, I’m totally in love with her.”

“Okay because…I’ve heard you say things like that about other girls and it always ends badly.” Marco laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He knows talking Jean out of this is pointless. They’ve been through it countless times before and as much as he wants it to be different for his best friend, he’s not so sure it ever will be. Jean has always been brash with women.

“I just love everything about her y’know? Like even the annoying stuff…that’s how I know it’s meant to be.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Jean gets a hopeless look on his face and Marco sighs in defeat.

“Oh boy, here we go.” Sipping at a beer, the freckled male taps his foot as he waits for some lovesick poet’s famous last words.

“Shut up dude, don’t mock me.” He sips the remainder of his beer before tossing it into the garbage can with a loud crash. “I can’t possibly explain it to you. But…she makes life worthwhile. And she makes me think there’s a reason to wake up in the morning. I love her eyes and her body, her stupid eyebrows. Hell, I even love when she puts her cold feet on my legs in the middle of the night.”

“Wow, you’re in deep. Just…be careful, Jean. You’ve always had a habit of jumping into things head first without thinking them through.” Jean considers that this is true before reaching for another beer.

“Shut up, Marco.”

☆

 

“I just think we need distance.”

“You’re moving? Because of me?”

“/No/, not because of you. Because of me. I just can’t do this.”

He wants to cry, beg her to stay but the truth is he’s seen this coming for at least a week now.

“Why?”

“Why what, Jean?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I just don’t think I can be what you want me to be. I’m really sorry.” He leans against the wall, holding on for dear life. He feels like he might pass out if he lets go. He’s quiet for several moments and he weighs the pros and cons of what he’s about to say. He’s been so cautious up until now and he just can’t be that Jean anymore.

“Eren…” he stands up straight and reaches for her arms to pull her closer. Brushing hair away from her eyes frantically, he leans closer as if he’s going to kiss her but he doesn’t.

“It’s not fucking fair. You don’t just get to wake up and move on after what we’ve been through together! After becoming what we are.”

“We’re just friends!” She yanks away from his grasp but stands still so he can finish what he’s about to say even if she doesn’t want to hear it.

“But I love you.” His voice croaks and she can’t help but cringe. She didn’t want to do this to him, and she fails to see how it even happened. Immediately shaking her head, Eren cups his cheeks and tilts his head downward so she can look into her eyes. She pities him but in a way, her heart shatters at the sight. They’d had a lot of good times together and she’ll never forget about those.

“No, no. You don’t mean that.” She reassures. “And don’t worry, I still want to be friends.” She laughs nervously as if something about this is funny. Jean reacts by shoving a vase off the stand beside him onto the floor. It shatters into a million pieces and it’s horribly ironic.

“You want to be /friends/?” He shouts, snapping backward away from her. “Are you out of your damn mind! I can’t even look at you, why would I ever want to be your friend.”

“You don’t mean that!” She’s hurt now, she did care about him. Just not in the way he’d hoped.

“Oh, I do.”

 

☆

“Fuck that bitch.”

“Wow that was quick, what’s it been like a week? You’ve already changed your mind?”

“She’s just fucking with my head. I hate it so much.”

“What now, drama queen?”

“She’s clearly using me. Why didn’t you say something, Marco!”

“Hold up, since when is that /my/ responsibility?”

“You’re my best friend! You’re supposed to warn me when a venomous bitch comes to suck my soul out.”

“That’s odd because you were just talking about her like she was an angel last week.”

Jean lets out a distressed groan and Marco swallows down the “I told you so” that was on the tip of his tongue. Reaching out, he rubs his best friend’s back.

“Just focus on yourself for a while. You really need to go easy on yourself.”

“I think I hate her, Marco.” The other man raises an eyebrow in shock, his friend’s mood swings constantly catching him by surprise. “Her pretentious Starbucks orders and her stupid fucking laugh.” Throwing his phone at the wall, he leaves a decent sized chip in the drywall.

“Hey, just take it easy.”

“No! That’s exactly what she’d say to me!” He remembers her voice momentarily and it pains him. The uncertainty of what’s going on between them.   

☆

 

Days pass.

Monday.

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

Before he knows it, it’s Monday again.

The days begin and end without Jean even realizing it. He’s read about how heartbreak effects a person’s desire to take care of themselves. He barely gets out of bed long enough to shower and raid his fridge for alcohol and junk food. His work desk is completely abandoned, deadlines long passed and he really considers quitting completely. Time passes and he feels practically nothing, to the point where he can’t even cry over her anymore. A lot of days he hopes the story will just end and he’ll be free of this but he’s stuck. One day he expects to just wake up and be over it. But he thinks of her smile. 

The way those thick brows furrow when she's annoyed with him. the ache returns at the thought of the way she struggles to reach the shelves in his apartment. How he always had to help her. 

Or the one time she stood on a chair and almost fell. Most fondly, he remembers the part where he saves her from falling and hurting herself. Her smile, her giggle, he's hooked and won't allow himself to move on.

☆

Broken hearted, it's awfully pathetic. He dreams of her eyes and the way her body looks when she sleeps next to him. The way her hands clasp together in her sleep. She's so carefree and upbeat that sometimes he finds himself envious of the way she can just move on. 

The way he wants to do. 

☆

A day does come where the sadness is suppressed, he can go a few hours without thinking about her. He thinks that he’s finally beginning to heal. The hope that he’ll receive a phone call from her only emerges every once in a while. He’s working again, not completely caught up but it’s a start. He tries to date but it hurts far too much. He goes to the spot on the hill. The park bench they spent a couple afternoons on and the familiar burning pain in his chest returns for a second.

He thinks for a second, he hears her voice saying his name.

“I’m going fucking crazy.” He reminds himself, trying to come down from the delusion. It’s not the first time he’s been this way.

“I’m not shocked to see you here.” She says and he quickly whips around to see Eren standing there behind the bench. A pea coat wrapped tightly around her slender body and her long brunette hair is tied up in a messy bun. The birthmark on her neck immediately catches his attention and feels like a direct blow to his chest. He looks to her eyes and loses himself in the pools of green. After a moment, he speaks.  

 “You’re the last person I expected to see here.” There’s hurt in his voice and it makes her wince.

“I love it. Ever since you brought me here. I come here to think.”

“Oh.” Is all he can manage. She’s hiding something from him and it’s obvious from the second that she sits down. She’s balling her fists underneath herself and it immediately makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s been awhile.” Cliché, as horribly cliché as their entire relationship has been.

“Yeah, it has. How are you?”

“I’m well.” She giggles and memories come creeping back. The time they made out in his car, how nice it felt to have her in his lap. Or the time at the movies where she held his hand for the first time. Tears jerk at his eyes but he holds them back.

“M’ glad to hear that.”

“I was hoping you’d call me or something…I would’ve really liked to hear from you.” For a second he has hope.

But then he sees the flash of bright silver on her hand as she reaches up to fix her bangs. The ring on her ring finger is an instant punch to the gut. She notices too. The way he flinches away as if he’s been slapped.

“You’re married?” He questions in horror. She searches for something in his eyes and it’s obvious that she’s thought about how to phrase this but still hasn’t quite figured it out.

“I am.” She says warmly, her cheeks and ears flush the way she used to do with him. “I wanted to invite you to the ceremony but it didn’t seem fair.”

“Why, how?” He’s in horror, everything he’d ever wanted with her; someone else got. After months of being told she wasn’t looking for a relationship and that she never wanted anything serious, it came as more than a shock that she’d so quickly changed her mind.

“Well, I just met someone who made me feel complete. It’s so weird…I think you might’ve been right from the beginning.”

“That’s odd. Because-” He starts but doesn’t finish, the look in her eyes kills him. He knows she never wanted to do this to him but now he can’t help but hate her for it. “I was beginning to think you were right.”

“No, I wasn’t Jean.” She comforts, reaching for his hand and it hurts him.

“There’s no such thing as fate…or ‘true love’. It’s all just coincidence. That’s all it ever is.” He’s looking at their hands now and realizing on what he’s missing out on. She’s going to go home and kiss whomever she’s married and he’s going to return home and ache. Why should it be fair that one person is miserable while the other is happy? But in a way, this ending was fitting. When he squinted, Jean realized he’d always hated her in a way. Maybe he really only loved how she was when they were together because looking at her now, happy with someone else, he really did hate her.

So when she reached out to touch his cheek, he couldn’t help but cringe away. Disgusted with himself that he still felt warm inside when she touched him.

“Don’t touch me.”

There was a lot of good in all of their bad, and they both knew it.

“Sorry. I really didn’t want it to work out this way.” She’s short with him now, bitter. Withdrawing her hands and clasping them together in her lap.

“Then what the hell did you want? Just to toy with my feelings? You knew how I felt about you. I was happy, why weren’t you?”

“Oh Jean,” She grimaces and he can see the pain in her eyes. “I was happy…/so/ happy. I just…it didn’t feel right, y’know?” She plays with the hem of her jacket nervously; he doesn’t understand what she has to be nervous about. Her cheeks tint a bright red and she stares upward towards the sky. Like she wishes she could just get away.

“I don’t, actually.” He lets out a distressed sigh, balling his fists to his sides.

“I love you a lot…I just- didn’t know how to cope with it.” He’s mad now, confused and bitter. But he sees the perspective. As a realist, he didn’t see how they could’ve ever lasted either.

“I loved you too. A lot. But why’d you marry someone else..?”

“With him, it was certain.” Her lips curve at the edges, impulsively, into a jagged smile.  

God, it’s good to see her happy. He can’t even argue anymore, as much as he wants to. Standing, Jean takes one final, momentous look at the girl of his dreams.

He notices everything about her now. Not just her fulfillments but her flaws too.

The scar on her neck and the cross-eyed look she gives him on occasion.

Her willingness to fight, even if it’s foolish or wrong.

The fact that she’s selfish enough to do this to him. To come here. As if she’s seeking him out just so he’ll know she’s happy.

But there’s a lot of beauty in this moment. Captivating, agonizing beauty.  

“Goodbye, Eren.” He turns to face away from her and he can feel those rough emerald eyes staring directly through him although he can’t see it.

“Goodbye, Jean…and good luck.” He looks over his shoulder to see the pain in her features, she’s really torn up by this but so is he. In a sick way, he hopes she’s hurting but at the same time he loves her so much, he wants her to be unconditionally happy.

“I don’t need your luck.”

  
☆

  "Jean you're such a fool." She coos into his ear as their bodies sway back and forth.

"Shut up, Eren." He laughs, one of his hands moving further down to her waist as the music fills the dark bar. They're in a crowded room but she's all he sees. This is how he knows that she's the one. She distracts him from the constant anxiety he's been living with all of his life. The music brings the room to life and he nuzzles their foreheads together. 

"Seriously, you can not dance." She shoves him playfully but he takes this as a challenge, sliding his hand down her arm so that he can clasp her hand and twirl her gently. The way she moves is more than enough to drive him insane. 

When their bodies are pressed together once again, his lips form a cocky grin.

"How was that?" 

"...Not bad." She says finally, pouting.

"Oh c'mon. Just admit that I'm a catch." 

"You're a catch." She whispers in his ear, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down to her level more. "Maybe I should run away with you." There's a seductive tone to her voice now and he grunts in pleasant surprise.

"Oh yeah? Where are we going?" 

"Wherever you want, big boy...I'm all yours."

"How about my apartment then? At least for now..." Things seem to be getting more serious between them and he takes this as a small step forward. No more makeout sessions in his car or hand holding in the coffee shop. An actual hookup. He convinces himself that she's beginning to return his feelings. That they'll be together someday.

"I think that's a great idea." Her drunken laugh should've been a red flag. The way she used alcohol to make them fit. He did the same, feeding his own delusions.Things seem to be getting more serious between them and he takes this as a small step forward. No more makeout sessions in his car or hand holding in the coffee shop. An actual hookup. He convinces himself that she's beginning to return his feelings. That they'll be together someday.

Things seem to be getting more serious between them and he takes this as a small step forward. No more makeout sessions in his car or hand holding in the coffee shop. An actual hookup. He convinces himself that she's beginning to return his feelings. That they'll be together someday.

For a long time, he'd believed his own delusions. 


End file.
